


Is It The Same For You?

by asaprockme



Series: You're All I Need [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Blow Jobs, Crushes, Fluff, M/M, Mute Harry, Pining, Smut, Songfic, Zayn is mentioned, harry doesn't speak, harry's a junior, idk what else to tag, it's kind of long, kind of, louis is mean, niall is a senior, shy!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2420285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asaprockme/pseuds/asaprockme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She said, “How can I relate to somebody who doesn't speak?”</p><p>Antichrist // The 1975</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is It The Same For You?

**Author's Note:**

> i literally started this one day then stopped, started again and stayed up til 4 am working on it, went to sleep, and woke up to work on it again haha. took me a few days after that to completely finish. hope you like it :) also, sorry for any mistakes there might be as well.

He's quiet, everyone knows that. No one bothers. He's known as "that one mute guy" or "the weird kid" but honestly he doesn't seem to mind. It's easier this way, he thinks. And it is, he finds.

It's easier because it takes less for him to say nothing at all and go about his life than to do just that, speak up for himself, and risk making everything worse. In fact, he likes the quiet. Anything loud makes him uncomfortable and uncomfortable is the last thing he likes to be.

And that's partly why he hates school so much. Not because he had to learn like the other kids he goes to school with complain about, but because school is loud and noisy and there's too much commotion and too many people and it makes him nervous, makes his head spin. He almost tried to talk his mother into letting him be homeschooled but he was far too scared to ask her.

He's pathetic, really. Can't even speak to his own family members, his own blood, and sadly that's just the way it is for him. He wants to be able to help it, but he can't. Somehow he convinces himself that he's okay with it even if he's really not.

And that's another thing, he's good at convincing. Or maybe he's a little bit deceiving too. Either way, this is him and he's not going to change anytime soon.

He just won't.

***

He's learned to ignore the comments he hears about himself sometimes. The comments he's not supposed to have heard but had anyway. The comments that have him wanting to run away, somewhere far away, and tuck himself under a good amount of blankets and just stay there until his feelings pass.

But even he can't do that and it's a shame honestly. It's a shame how this is what he has to go through every other day. Can't even make it through the hallways without someone side-eyeing him like he's some kind of freak of nature, like he's some newly discovered species waiting to be experimented on.

He's a normal lad, he is. He just doesn't speak. And he's okay with that. This, what he does, works for him. Why can't other people understand that?

So he stays to himself. He has no friends, doesn't even have any acquaintances. He walks through the halls with his head down and green eyes glued to his feet and his arms circled around himself like he's trying to keep everything in. Like he's shielding himself from the world around him.

And he walks until he reaches his class and he makes his way towards the back because it's just easier this way, and no one bothers to look up because it's like he's not even there in the first place. It's like he doesn't exist. And although he may claim that, you guessed it, it's easier this way, maybe it's really not after all. Maybe this is not for the better.

***

"How was your day, sweetie?" His mother asks him once he walks through the front door after school is done with. She says the same thing everyday and everyday she'll just get a shrug in response and that's all that ever happens before Harry is turning away and heading up the stairs and into his room to lock himself away until he has to leave again in the morning.

Sometimes he pretends that he doesn't hear his mother's sighs from the other side of the door. Sometimes he'd imagine that he's alone in his own little bubble, living in a world alone. And to Harry that's what he imagines his own paradise would be like. But then he's brought back into reality and everything turns from color to black and white again.

One day it will get better, he likes to tell himself. It's not a shock that sometimes, most of the time, he doesn't believe it.

***

He likes to walk to school. He doesn't live that far at all, only about a street or two away and for that he's glad. He prefers it this way, anyway. Even if it's bloody freezing outside to the point where he can't even feel his own limbs, he's okay with it. Because walking is a lot better than having to sit through a conversation with his mum that she and him both know he'll never engage in. Because walking is a lot easier than having to sit next to random citizens on the bus and being uncomfortable and feeling like he can't breathe on the whole way there. Walking is better because Harry likes to be alone and he likes it to where it's just him and his thoughts and this is like bliss to him. Even if he has to hold himself a bit tighter as the wind blows furiously around him. He doesn't mind.

When he finally makes it to school, he heads straight for the toilets because it's either here where he waits for his first class to start or it's the library, it all depends on how he's feeling that day, really. And when he feels a bit mellow or a bit down in particular, he hides away in one of the stalls with his backpack slung tight over his shoulders and his feet crossed one over the other until he hears that familiar ring of the bell and he's forced to find his way to his first class of the day.

His first class is English and he absolutely hates it. Not because of the subject, necessarily. Because he actually likes English, it's surprisingly fun to him. It's the class itself that gets to him. Makes his skin crawl with nerves to the point where he feels like he has to scratch away at his skin to get them to leave. His teacher always makes them do something interactive and it sucks because she makes it part of a participation grade and if you don't engage in the activities you receive a failing grade and Harry knows all bout that.

His teacher called his mum one time because he never participated in class. He didn't get in trouble though. His mother knows how he is. But he did receive a stern look and a "you're making this so hard on yourself, Harry." And yeah, he kind of was, but he couldn't exactly help that much. Talking may sound like an easy thing to do, but to Harry it's not. Makes him feel overwhelmed, claustrophobic with nerves, really.

No one understands what he has to go through. He doesn't think they ever will either.

Harry's lucky that today his teacher was absent and left the class a worksheet in alternative, in which they could work in pairs or groups if they so pleased, but of course Harry decided to stay near the back while everyone was grouped together in the front. Of course Harry kept his head down and refused eye contact with anyone, even when a wad of paper went flying at his head. Even when the half the class—if not the whole—burst out into a fit of laughter and uncontrolled giggles. Even then he kept his head low and his ankles crossed one over the other underneath his desk.

This is just how his life goes. He pretends to be okay with that.

***

There's a guy. He's all smiles and pink cheeks and obviously unnatural blond hair and sparkly blue eyes that make Harry's chest hurt whenever he catches a glimpse of them. And when he does he makes sure to turn away faster than he can realize, leaving him with blazing red cheeks and a heart that feels like it's going to beat out of his chest.

This guy's name is Niall. Niall Horan. He's a senior and Harry's only a junior, but Harry's kind of, maybe, quite possibly in love with him. He's so sure he is. Even if Niall's only said one word to him (which was 'sorry' because he'd accidentally bumped into Harry when he was in year nine and ever since then Harry has been head over heels, neck deep, in love). Harry can't help it, though, because Niall is just—he's beautiful, in all honesty and Harry can't stop the twists and turns and flips and shakes his stomach does whenever he's around him.

And it's not like Niall notices Harry at all. And even if he did Harry would never know. Because Niall's a big shot and he's got a ton of friends and he laughs way too loud for Harry's liking and talks way too much and is just one big ball of outgoing fun and Harry is so not. He's nothing, like scum on the bottom of your foot and Niall's like up there with the gods and the heavens above.

It makes Harry's body ache when he thinks about it, but in the end it doesn't even matter because Niall is Niall and he'd never be seen with someone like Harry.

It's just the way the world around them works. And, sadly, Harry can't change a thing.

***

He should be failing physical education but somehow he's not. Harry truly believes that the coach feels sorry for him or something because Harry does absolutely nothing in this class but hide himself away in the corner but somehow— _somehow—_ he always makes an A on his report cards. He's not exactly complaining at all, it's just, wow.

He kind of feels bad that everyone else in the class has to work hard and he gets to just slack off and do jack shit. But he just  _can't_ , he can't do it. His back starts to sweat and his knees begin to tremble thinking about it.

The coach still makes him dress out, though. Harry thinks it's just in case a principal or someone of a higher level than him happens to come in and it looks like he's doing his job. Which he is, of course. He only wants to make sure he's doing everything right.

It's when Harry's huddled in a corner that's basically claimed his, reading a book when a ball comes flying at his head. It kind of knocks the wind out of him, kind of feels like he's going to pass out, which he just might because he can feel his eyes closing and he can see them rimming black and that's all he remembers before everything goes dark and silent.

When Harry wakes up again, he's in a room that's way too bright for his eyes and had his head throbbing before they could fully open. He doesn't really know exactly what happened, can't remember anything except for a ball knocking him dead in the face.

And now that he thinks about it, his head is starting to throb and he wants nothing more than to go home and ignore the world until he's falling into a deep, peaceful sleep. But he can't, unfortunately. He's still wearing his gym clothes and he's sprawled across a white chair with parchment-like paper spread across it. It kind of makes him nervous. Makes him feel like he's in a hospital room and Harry absolutely hates hospitals with a burning passion.

He has this sudden urge to throw up again.

"Harry Styles?" A woman asks him, appearing out of what seems like nowhere. The sound of her voice made Harry jump a little but he quickly recovered once he saw who it was; the school nurse.

Harry nods because he doesn't like to use his voice, wouldn't want to use it even if it were completely necessary.

"Alright dear," she smiles and Harry lets out a deep breath because she doesn't appear fazed by Harry's quietness. For that he's glad. "You've just been hit in the head with a football during your P.E. class," she chuckles lightly making Harry's eyebrows turn into a frown. It's not funny, he thinks. "You've been resting here for a bit. You can stay longer if you'd like, but if not you've got to be going to your next class, okay?"

Harry nods again because, again, he doesn't speak. And if the nurse is a little annoyed by Harry's disuse of his vocal chords, she doesn't show it.

"Are you feeling better?" she asks, placing a clipboard on a nearby desk. Harry shakes his head furiously.

Which is only a small fib, because no Harry doesn't feel bad, not bad enough to skip another class, but he'd rather not go back. Because if he does that means he had to come in contact with other human beings and that means when he walks into class all eyes will be on him and he doesn't feel like being the center of attention, shaking and quite possibly sweating in the front of a full classroom. He's not in the mood for that at all.

"Okay, Harry," she smiles, but Harry feels weird with her using his name like they actually know each other. Which they don't because Harry's never even stepped foot inside of the nurse's office until now. Didn't even know where it was located before. "I'll let you stay here until this class is over, but it's on your way when the next one starts, alright?"

Harry nods again and the nurse gives him a look and she's off. But before she can leave, there's a voice interrupting the quietness of the bright room.

Harry tenses in his seat because, believe it or not, he recognizes that voice, he  _knows_  it, and honestly he shouldn't but he does and it has his heart reaching extreme levels that Harry's not even sure is healthy for him.

"Niall Horan," the nurse calls out and Harry can tell by the tone of her voice that she's either shaking her head or rolling her eyes right now. He's curious now, wonders why that is. He almost turns around to see, but he's too scared to meet eyes with that familiar voice he knows so well. "What are you doing here again? This is the third time this week." The nurse chastises him.

Him. Niall.  _Him_.

"It's a long story," is all he says and it has Harry's head swimming already, he's only said four words.

"I could write you up for technically skipping class, you know?" Harry pictures her with an eyebrow raised.

"No need, this is an emergency." Niall insists and if Harry wasn't so scared, if he wasn't so used to being locked away in his own shell, he probably would've laughed. He doesn't, of course. Wouldn't dare doing so, especially not in front of Niall Horan.

"You said that the last two times, Niall."

" _Oh_ ," Niall groans. "Me stomach. Feel like I'm dying!"

"Sit down, Niall." The nurse demands him in a bored tone. "Next time I'm calling home, you got that?"

"Yes ma'am," he says and before Harry knows it, Niall's there, he's right next to him and he's taking the seat directly across from him.

Harry can feel the bile rising in his throat. He thinks he's going to be sick.

"Oh—you alright, mate?" Niall questions him, and even though his voice is soothing, like music to Harry's ears, hearing it makes Harry feel ten times worse. Because the nerves are adding up and his chest is constricting and it feels like he can't breathe. Dammit.

"You look a little pale," Niall observes.

And it's like Niall doesn't even think about it. Before Harry knows it, Niall is trying to reach over and put a hand on Harry. No, this can't happen. Harry flinches, scooting away before Niall's hand can touch his skin.

"Woah, alright, 'm sorry, mate."

Niall looks worried for the most part, almost as if he should be doing something to help Harry but can't because he doesn't know what to do. Looks as if he's just seen a dog walking on his hind legs or something.

"Should I get the nurse for you? You look like you might need her."

Harry shakes his head so fast that it feels like his brain is moving inside his skull. He doesn't want the nurse to come over because then she'll ask him questions and then everyone will give him strange looks because he won't respond and Harry's already overwhelmed enough as it is with Niall right beside him. He doesn't need anything more on his plate.

Niall nods as of he understands Harry's bazaar actions, but Harry is pretty sure he doesn't. But Niall takes his seat anyway, seeming more relaxed when his back meets the cool chair, raising his arms up and placing them behind his head.

But then his eyebrows are turning inward and he's looking at Harry again with confusion clear on his face.

"Hey," he says, "I know you, right?"

 _"Yes!"_ Harry wants to scream but doesn't because honestly, no, they don't technically know each other, just know  _about_  each other. Well, Harry knows Niall but he's not exactly sure if Niall knows him. So Harry opts for shrugging, trying to appear as if he's playing it cool, when in actuality he's not because he just damn near passed out when he found that Niall was in the same place as him.

"Hmmm," Niall hums to himself, looking deep in thought. "I feel like I know you, just can't put my finger on it."

Harry shouldn't care, shouldn't feel hurt that Niall doesn't remember that time in year nine that Niall bumped into him. It shouldn't shatter his heart like it does, but Harry doesn't know what else to do.

Of course Niall wouldn't remember him. He's nothing and Niall is everything and they just don't match.

 _It's okay_ , Harry tries to tell himself.  _It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay_...

***

Sometimes Harry wakes up in the middle of the night; tears streaming down his face, chest moving up and down rapidly, breaths ragged as they leave his mouth. He's so used to it now, but he still can't help but get overwhelmed by it all. Still scares him sometimes, still makes him jittery.

And sometimes as Harry tries to get his breathing back to normal, he'll open up his window and crawl out of it to sit on the space on his roof near his room and watch the stars until the sky turns from black to a gradient of colors and his mum has to come into his bedroom to tell him that it's time to get ready for school.

And sometimes he'll pretend that he doesn't see the look of sorrow on her face when he just nods and goes about his day like everything he does is perfectly normal.

It's times like these when Harry wishes he could be like one of the millions of stars that shine so bright in the skies above. Because anything would be better than living the life he's living now. Anything—even being like a burning star.

***

"You're Harry, right?" Niall Horan asks him one day. It's random, really weird in fact. Harry was sitting in the library, nose deep in this new mystery book he'd bought the day before when suddenly somebody's standing before him and when he looks up, it's the one and only Niall Horan.

Harry closes his book, pushing his chair out and grabs his things so fast, heading for the exit. He can hear Niall behind him whispering his name (because they're in a library of course) but he chooses to ignore the voice that he admires so much, puts it in a 'save for later' file in the back of his mind before he's off and rushing to his secret place—the boy's bathroom.

***

If Harry sees Niall again after that day, he makes sure that their eyes don't meet. For one, he's not ready for Niall to confront him for that stunt he pulled the other day. He doesn't think he can manage anything like that. And two, he wants to save himself from the embarrassment that he knows will come with it. He knows there would be laughter surrounding him and he knows that his eyes will water and if he blinks the tears will flow over like a flood over its gate.

He doesn't  _do_  confrontation and he doesn't  _do_  people and he definitely doesn't work well with humiliation, so this is what's best for him. It's not as if Niall and his perfect teeth and his crystal clear eyes and his beautiful freckles will mind anyway, so what's the point?

In fact, even though Harry tells himself this a lot, he  _knows_  this will be easier. Not only for him but for Niall too.

***

It's like Niall has some magnetic pull on Harry. Or rather the other way around because somehow—and Harry's not even sure how—Niall always finds a way to be near Harry. Whether it's intentional or not, it happens. It kind of scares Harry, if he's honest.

Why is it that Niall always has to be wherever he is? Why now, better yet, why ever?

And don't get him wrong, it pulls at Harry's heart strings a little to know that Niall is there, but it also sends him into a frenzy. He almost feels insane even.

He probably is insane but that's not something he'd rather think about right now. He'd rather think about how Niall, Niall Horan himself, is walking up to him. Right now. He's walking up to Harry's locker and Harry almost drops all of his things and just runs away because he can't do this, he doesn't think. This isn't how it's supposed to happen.

And just when Harry shoves everything that he needs into his backpack, he holds his bag against his chest as tight as he possibly can without even bothering to zip it up. He actually thinks he might run away now, but before he can get his thoughts into action and get his brain to send his feet a signal telling them to get a move on, Niall is right there, leaning against the metal of the lockers with a small but polite smile on his face.

Harry's eyes dart to any other surface around them but Niall's eyes. It's just, besides the fact that he basically lives up to the title of "that mute guy" he was given, Niall's eyes are just so blue and sparkly and, to be quite frank, intimidating. Harry feels his skin crawling whenever he sees Niall's ocean for a pair of eyes.

"Hey," Niall utters and it sends chills up, down, through, over, under, Harry's spine. He's so fucking pathetic it hurts.

Harry, obviously, doesn't say a single word, doesn't even move a muscle. He thinks he's paralyzed or something.

"You don't talk much do you?" Niall chuckles and Harry knows it's not because he believes that this is funny. It's probably because he doesn't know what else to do.

Harry's known for being and awkward, uncomfortable mess, that's for sure.

"Well, that's okay, I guess. Sometimes silence guides the mind."

 _Wow, deep_ , Harry wants to say, wants to roll his eyes too but he knows he won't. There's no point in even thinking about it.

"Actually, ya know, I just stole that line from a song," Niall laughs and it makes Harry want to laugh too. Except, he doesn't laugh so whatever. "I don't think I used that right."

With that, Harry shrugs and even he's surprised with himself. He doesn't let it show, though.

"Um," Niall speaks up again after a moment. Harry's mind still feels like it's going to explode—this is what Niall does to him, it's sad. "So I know your name is Harry, it's Harry, correct?" Harry doesn't respond. His eyes are still glued to the floor for fucks sake. "Well, I'm just gonna assume it is 'cause you haven't denied it so..."

This conversation (can it even be classified as that?) is making Harry feel uneasy. But only a bit. Lord knows he can't sit still at the sound of Niall's voice, even if he's not moving an inch now. It's his body, his insides that are on fire now.

"You really don't talk much," Niall mutters, his voice laced with shock. It's like he'd just found out that one of those urban legends were true or something. "I think that's pretty sick, actually."

Wait, what?

Niall must've noticed the bewildered look on Harry's face seeing as he lets out one his notorious laughs and he shakes his head and Harry finds that so cute, finds that he kind of wants to rip his hair out one by one because of it.

"I mean, some people say too much, like. Including me, can't lie about that, but it's like, sometimes you just gotta shut up for a while, yeah? I mean, I don't wanna, like, offend you or anything by saying this, but I think it's nice. Don't know why people make such a big deal out of it, ya know?"

And wow, if Harry quite possibly, maybe, loved Niall before, he hasn't seen a thing yet.

***

It's kind of weird. It's weird how Harry can literally go the whole day without uttering a word and honestly that scares him. Scares him that he's so beyond the definition of shy that he can't even express himself how others do because he's so fucking stuck in this little bubble of  _nothing_  and it frustrates the fuck out of Harry, it does. And it frustrates him so much yet he can't do anything about it. He's so fucking scared of life that this is how he chooses to deal with it and that sets him over the edge.

Gets him shaking and trembling so much, to the point where he can't even be bothered to stand. Scares him so much that he can't help but sob and kick and wail because this is all he's ever going to amount to and he hates it. He absolutely hates it.

And he hates that he won't let anyone comfort him, won't let anyone help him, not even his own mother and he hates himself for that too. And he just knows, knows for a fact that his mother doesn't know what to do with him anymore. Knows that she had no one else to turn to because everyone's fucking gone.

His sister Gemma is gone, his dad's gone, he himself is gone even if he's physically here, yes, he's really not. His mind is somewhere else and his body has been left behind to fend for itself. It sucks, it does. And it hurts so much.

And he can't stop crying and he can't stop shaking and he can't stop hate, hate,  _hating_  the world and this is how it is. This is how it goes until the sobs stop escaping and his eyes start drifting and his mind wanders off until the darkness takes over and the sleep kicks in.

This is how it goes.

***

Harry doesn't do lunch. Not that he doesn't eat, because he does, it's just he doesn't do  _people_. He doesn't do the large crowds and the long lines and the muffled shouts and cheers of fellow students or whatever else it is that comes with the cafeteria. He doesn't do it—isn't it obvious?

So of course when Niall asks if he'd like to sit with him and his friends at lunch one day, Harry makes a face at him and finds himself turning away like he always does. Except, he doesn't get far because Niall gets a grip on his bicep and forces him to turn his way again. He does it in the most gentle way possible and that makes Harry heart stutter like a broken record that keeps on skipping tracks.

"C'mon," he insists with that smile that Harry just cannot stand. He loves it a little too much, that's for sure. "Just for today. And if you don't like it you never have to sit there again."

Harry frowns at that. He wants to know why Niall chose him of all people. Why Niall seems so interested in Harry at all. He's not special, never will be. He won't even talk for gods sake. What could Niall possibly want with him?

"Okay, um, where do you eat then? We'll eat together, alone if that's what you want, huh?"

And, goddamn, Niall is so persistent, but why? It's all Harry wants to know— _why_. He really wishes he were able to ask him right now, but he won't. He doesn't do talking after all.

Harry shrugs. That's all he feels like he knows how to do nowadays.

"I thought I could break your shell if I talked to you a bit more, but I don't think I'm getting far." Niall chuckles to what Harry feels like is mostly to himself.

"I mean, I'll just go if you want me to, like. I just thought it wouldn't hurt to try, ya know?"

And somehow (Harry's not exactly sure what made him do it—he never does things like this) Harry finds himself nodding for Niall to follow him even if his mind is screaming for him not to, he's doing it anyway. And his hands are shaking along the way, and his breathing is starting to pick up the pace, and he doesn't know what in the fuck he's actually doing but it doesn't matter in the moment because this is the widest Harry's ever seen Niall smile in all his time.

He's pretty proud of himself, can't help the tiny—really tiny—smile that twitches on his lips.

Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

***

This continues on for a while. With Niall sitting across from Harry in the silence that fills the library, with their lunches in front of them and smiles (Harry's is barely noticeable but it's there) on their faces.

And if Niall receives weird stares and if people go up to him later on in the hallways asking "what the fuck are you doing?" he doesn't mind one bit. In fact, he doesn't seem to be bothered by it at all.

And little does Harry know that one day Niall hopes that he'll be able to gather up the courage to sit directly beside Harry instead of across and little does Harry know Niall wants nothing more than to hear Harry's voice for the first time than anything he's ever wanted in his life before.

It's weird because Niall barely knows anything about Harry but he can't seem to pull himself away from him. It's like he's that one piece of gum that sticks to the bottom of your shoe that you just can't get off no matter how much you scrub and scrape at it.

Harry is just so fascinating to Niall—he can't explain it, but fuck does he feel it. He knows it's there.

"We should hang out." Niall blurts randomly, having to whisper because it's the library and he kind of hates this place because it doesn't fit his obnoxiously loud voice at all. But this is where Harry likes to situate himself so maybe it's not that bad after all.

Harry frowns—not in a bad way or not in anyway that's rude, more like the kind of frown you do when you're thinking hard about something. He'll take that over anything, Niall thinks.

"Like, outside of the library. Outside of school, I mean."

Harry's jade eyes follow Niall's and he feels like he's home. Feels like he's warm and safe and under a bunch of fluffy covers and it's just him and Niall and no one else. That's how Harry sees it when they're sitting together in the library like they do every day. It's just him and Niall and Niall and him and that's when he finds himself scavenging through his backpack for a pen and paper, slapping it on the table when he comes across just that.

Niall stares at him out of curiosity, and Harry makes sure he sneaks in a couple of glances at Niall's blue eyes when his hands are prancing against the paper he's currently writing on. Harry writes a single word on that paper, sets his pen on the table with care, and slowly, cautiously, slides the piece of paper towards Niall.

Niall breaks out into a huge grin, one that makes it look like his face will quite possibly split in half and chuckles lightly to himself. He reads the single word on the paper over and over again before his eyes meet Harry's for another time.

 _Okay_.

Harry may not have spoken just now, but this is a step further than Niall ever expected to get. It makes him feel so good, makes him fill up with pure happiness and gets him thinking that nothing could possibly be greater than this.

***

"It's sick, right?" Niall asks Harry and he just looks so happy that it makes Harry want to jump with the joy that's currently taking over his body at the moment. Because Niall's happiness is kind of contagious and Harry can't help but feel like his spirits are being lifted around him.

He needs this, he needs this so much.

Harry nods like he always does and somehow Niall doesn't seem to mind. Doesn't get annoyed at Harry's typical silence, and maybe that's what he likes about Niall most. That he's patient and he's sincere and he respects Harry and for that Harry respects him so much.

And it's so much more than that for Harry, it's everything to him.

Right now they're both sitting on the hood of Niall's car and they're watching the sunset and Harry wants to let Niall know so bad how much he appreciates the setting of the sun. His throat is itching to say just that, but once again his nerves take over and he can't. It makes Harry feel uneasy.

"Relaxin', innit?" And Niall's smile is so perfect Harry wants to cry and scream and do every single thing at once, but he opts for staring at him instead. He stares at Niall like he's absolutely every-fucking-thing to him, and honestly, he kind of is. At least he's starting to be.

Niall catches him doing just that and Harry turns away with his cheeks blazing like the end of a cigarette, but Niall chooses to smile wider despite it.

"I just wanna know who you are, Harry," Niall whispers and he means it. He wouldn't lie about that. "I know you probably won't tell me, I don't mind, but it'd be nice to hear your voice."

Harry looks away because he can't help the guilt that washes over him and he doesn't want Niall to witness it either. He wants Niall to know, hell, he'd tell him anything he wanted to, but it's not that easy and he wishes he could tell him just that.

But maybe he'll get the courage to one day, and when he does he knows it will make Niall happier than he's ever been. And he can't wait to see the look on his face when he finally does. It warms his heart just thinking about it.

And that's how the rest of their night goes, with them lying under the stars and Niall speaking about anything and everything that comes to mind until the skies fade to black and they're forced to go home.

Nothing feels better than this. Harry wouldn't have it any other way.

***

Niall asks Harry if he has a phone, to which Harry nods that yes, he does. Niall can't help the tiny snicker that escapes his mouth because he honestly thought Harry would shake his head 'no', seeing as he doesn't talk and all.

Harry wants to tell him about why he actually has a phone but he doesn't. Doesn't tell him that his mother insisted he have one "just in case of emergencies, sweetheart," she'd said. Doesn't tell him that he thought it was dumb for his mother to buy him one and that he thought it was a waste of money because he wasn't ever going to use the thing, he could guarantee that. So really it was stupid because to this day Harry still never uses it. But he guesses he will now, because now Niall's taking Harry's phone into his own hands and typing in his number and texting himself so that he has Harry's too and that's that really.

And even though Harry feels uneasy about this whole "text me/call me whenever you'd like" thing, he can't deny that deep down inside he's pretty excited about this whole thing. I mean, what's better than this?

Niall calls him later on that day when he's in his bedroom with the doors shut tight and his nose stuck in a new book like it always is. Harry hesitates to answer it because, what the fuck Niall, he doesn't even speak. But he does anyway, even if it's not until the second to last ring, because it's Niall and Harry really can't say no when it comes to him.

He's so pathetically smitten with him, it's not even funny.

"Hey, Harry!" Niall shouts and Harry has to pull away because he's  _so loud_. He can't help the smile that creeps its way onto his face anyway. That always seems to happen around him.

"This is so cool, huh?" He asks even though the conversation only started about a minute ago. "I mean, I know I probably won't get to hear you say anything, but I like being able to talk to you because I know you'll always listen to me."

If that doesn't send unnatural pulses through Harry's body and if that doesn't get Harry's heart racing twice as fast, then what the hell would? Honestly.

"Okay, so like..." and that's how it goes. Niall just talks and talks and talks and Harry listens and Niall knows he's there because it's Harry and he wouldn't go anywhere and this is when Harry's at his happiest, he finds. When he's with Niall and there's nothing else in the whole entire world, in this big place we call a universe, that could possibly be better than this.

And if there was, Harry wouldn't want to know because he'd take Niall over anything any day.

***

Niall shows up late to the library that day. Harry can't stop his knee from bouncing with unwanted nerves, can't stop his stomach from rumbling even though he just finished eating a sandwich and a bag of crisps. Niall is usually here by now, Harry can't help but feel on edge.

It's been ten minutes and he can't stop himself from looking at the entrance every five seconds in hopes that his blond haired, blue-eyed friend would pop up. And he keeps looking and looking but all he gets instead is a boy with shaggy hair and dull blue eyes that couldn't even compare with Niall's if they were the last two human beings on earth.

Harry kind of jumps a bit in his seat when the guy takes a seat in front of him. Jumps because that's where Niall sits, that's his seat, and whoever this guy is isn't even half as worthy to be sharing the same spot as Niall. Not even close.

"Well what do we have here?" he asks. His voice is so taunting and Harry can't stand it one bit. "Waiting for your little boyfriend, I see?"

Harry's face goes from pink with nerves to a furious red with embarrassment. The word 'boyfriend' tips him off.

"Oh wait, aren't you that mute kid?" He laughs, making the librarians send stern looks his way. Harry would apologize if he, you know, actually spoke and what not. "Don't know what Niall sees in you at all. Probably trying to get into your pants or something in all honesty. What the hell else would he want with a kid who's mute? It's not like he'll ever hear you speak or any—"

"Louis, what the fuck are you doing here?" Somebody interrupts and Harry feels like he's been given a breath of fresh air because it's Niall and he loves the sound of his voice and he kind of hates this Louis character a lot. He doesn't hate people, so that's saying something. "Get the fuck out. Don't speak to him again, you hear me?"

And although Harry doesn't like to see an angry Niall, he doesn't like the way his eyebrow scrunches up or the way his jaw sets at all, he can't help but feel like everything in the world is a-okay because that's what Niall does. He makes everything feel alright.

"Wasn't planning on it," Louis mutters, all kinds of rudeness in his voice. Harry watches with big green eyes as Louis pushes out of the chair— _Niall's chair—_ and stalks away until he's out of sight.

Something makes Harry's insides feel like they're on fire though, because instead of Niall taking his chair, the one across from Harry's, he takes the one directly beside him in alternative and that's something he's never done until now. Harry likes it much better this way, anyway

"I'm sorry," Niall says, setting his elbows on top of the table. He sighs harshly and runs his fingers through his brown roots before his blue eyes meet up with Harry's. "I was finishing up a test that's why I wasn't here. Don't listen to a word Louis said, okay? He's a fucking prick that doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about."

Harry hated the way Niall spoke through clenched teeth and hated the way his hands kept opening and closing into fists and he doesn't think before he does it at all, doesn't realize he's doing it until his hands are covering Niall's and he squeezes them tightly.

Niall looks at him with wide eyes and Harry almost starts trembling but then Niall's smiles, he smiles so fucking wide, and Harry feels so complete. He feels whole. And he feels like he's at one hundred percent when Niall removes one of his hands from under Harry's and places it in top of the curly headed lad's.

Harry feels like he could walk on water, in fact, he kind of wants to try it now.

***

"I like watching the sunsets and gazing at the stars." Harry mumbles one day when him and Niall are gaping at the sky above and watching as it changes colors exactly like they had that first time. And after that time, this became a thing, like  _their_  thing, and now it was reoccurring.

And right now, Niall's eyes are so fucking huge and his mouth his hanging wide open and if he doesn't close it now he'll start drooling and flies will find their way in and Harry doesn't think he'd like that very much. But Niall can't exactly help it, it feels like he's going to stop breathing in a second. Might go into cardiac arrest or something far worse than that.

But, what the actual fuck, Harry just fucking spoke and his voice is so raspy yet smooth and it's deep and it's something Niall definitely wasn't expecting and wow, he fucking spoke.  _Harry fucking spoke_.

He doesn't know what to say—what can he say?—doesn't know what to do so he does the only thing he feels like he should and before he can reevaluate, he's launching froward and attacking Harry with the tightest and longest and biggest hug Niall has ever given and Harry has ever received before.

"Oh my fucking god," Niall whispers urgently into Harry's neck. Harry can't help the smile that finds its way onto his lips, can't help the swell of his heart when he realizes that him and Niall are so fucking close and they're touching and he never knew how much he wanted this in his life until now.

Fuck, this feels like heaven to him, it really does.

"Harry, you— _wow, fuck—_ you spoke. Like, you  _spoke_! Fuck me, I'm sorry if I'm exaggerating a little, or maybe a lot, but wow, I—I don't know what to say."

But Harry thinks that he doesn't have to say anything because the smile he's wearing is enough for him and it says a lot, so, really, Harry can't complain. Can't even be offended because he understands. Hell, he'd react the same way too if their roles were reversed.

"You don't even have to say anything ever again if you don't want to because this is honestly, hands down, the best thing that you could ever give me and I mean that, Harry, I do."

Harry doesn't know what else to do but hug Niall again. He couldn't resist.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know about me," Harry tells Niall quietly after they pull away. He doesn't know how he's doing it, the whole talking thing, but he is and he's not lying to himself when he says that it feels great. It feels wonderful that Niall was the one to hear him speak and no one else.

Niall is so overwhelmed with joy that when Harry speaks again he just grins one of those face splitting smiles and he's laughing as he mutters and "oh my god," under his breath and that's the last thing he says before Harry is talking again and Niall is listening to the sound of his voice for the rest of the night.

And they do this all the way up until Niall's phone is vibrating in his pocket and he sees the text message from his mother letting him know that his dinner has gone cold and it's time for him to go home.

He wishes he could stay here with Harry and his voice forever instead, but there's always next time for that. Niall is determined to make that happen.

***

When Harry smiles, so does his mother and when Harry feels good it's like it spreads and it's like his mum is like a new person when she's around Harry when he's how he is now.

She smiles when he smiles and she laughs when he surprisingly laughs and she looks like she's filled with butterflies and rainbows when she finally gets Harry to talk to her again.

Harry's mum misses this so much. She's definitely going to enjoy this happy Harry while it lasts.

"How was your day, sweetheart?" she asks him one day when he comes home from school like she always does. And like always she expects to get nothing from her son, but this time she does and confused is an understatement when it comes to how she feels right now. Confused and over joyous, that's what it is.

"Great," Harry grins and his mother can't help bit grin as well. And, hell, if Harry's going to talk now, she's going to take full advantage of it because she's not exactly sure how long this is going to last.

But either way she's thankful though because she loves her son with all her being and she always will even if she never gets to hear his sweet voice again.

"Anything special happen?" she questions and finds herself leaning in closer to see what all her son will say next. Harry chuckles at that and his mum's eyes fill with that happiness she's been longing for her son for a while now.

"Kind of," he shrugs and Anne knows not to push him any further.

"I'm so glad," she says and she truly is. "I'm making dinner soon, you can join me down here if you'd like to."

And Harry doesn't even think about it this time, instead he's nodding his head and mumbling a small "yeah," and if anyone's to blame for Harry's happiness, it's no one else's fault but Niall's.

***

Harry isn't the best speaker, doesn't talk a lot, but at least he talks now, at least he says  _something_ , and with that Niall has never been better. He still finds it strange when Harry will give his input on something or when Harry makes random small talk, but it's something Niall still has to get used to. And he'd wait his whole life for Harry if he could, he wouldn't even think twice.

Niall and Harry are in the library again but this time instead of sitting in their usual seats, they're sitting on the floor in the middle of the mystery and non-fiction sections towards the back. And they both know that nobody ever goes back here because it's the "boring section" so they're both safe. There's no need to worry about interruptions or anything.

"Read something to me," Niall insists as he leans his head against the book shelf and turns slightly to look lazily at Harry.

"Why?" Harry whispers nervously. He's still getting used to speaking, even if he only talks to Niall and sometimes his mum.

"Because," Niall shrugs, closing his eyes halfway. He wishes he were at home in his own bed, snuggling up to Harry as Harry reads to him and maybe, possibly, plays with his hair while he does. It's only a fantasy though so Niall can cut the crap. "I like the sound of your voice, that's why."

Harry sends a lazy half smile Niall's way and doesn't even think twice before opening his book and getting ready to read to the boy he fancies most.

"Wait," Niall interrupts him, "you're actually gonna read me something?"

"Yeah," Harry nods because he'd do practically anything for Niall, he wouldn't even have to ask.

"Oh, wow, okay," Niall nods and smiles and lays his head back against the shelf as Harry starts to read his book to him.

It's bliss, Niall thinks. It's kind of like they're in their own paradise.

***

Louis is right. Harry is so pathetic and he's not even sure why Niall chooses to spend all his time with him just like Louis said.

_"You're a fucking weirdo who can't speak."_

It's not like Louis was lying. Because it was true. He was weird and he didn't speak and Louis was so right even if he didn't want to believe it, he was.

So if Harry doesn't show up to the library that day and if Niall is left waiting for Harry to come, it's not his fault. Maybe this is how it's supposed to be, right? Maybe him talking was a mistake in the first place. Suddenly he's regretting ever doing it to begin with.

And Harry sits in the last stall in the boy's bathroom with his backpack slung tight over his shoulders and his feet crossed one over the other and this is how it's supposed to be anyway. He doesn't know why he thought differently any other day.

~

"Harry, where were you today? I waited for you and you didn't show." Niall pleads when he catches Harry in the hallway.

He's not mad, only curious because Harry's always in the library, he's never missed a single day. Never even been late before, so why now? Niall just wants to know.

But Harry doesn't speak, he only shrugs and Niall's stomach drops because this is what Harry did before he started talking and he doesn't want it to go back to that. He quite liked a talking Harry and he's not looking forward to losing him just yet.

"Is something wrong? You can talk to me, you know that right?"

Harry looks at the ground beneath them and tries to pull away but Niall's not having that. "Harry," he begs and Harry can't help but look into his eyes. And when he does he feels bad because Niall's eyes are full of sorrow and Harry can't stand it.

"Talk to me," he whispers. But just as Harry is about to give in—because how can he not?—he looks up to see Louis walking by with this look on his face that Harry can't pinpoint. And Niall notices the way Harry flinches and his eyes go straight to Louis.

Of course, he thinks.

"Harry, did he say something to you?"

Harry's quiet again and Niall hates the noise even if there's no sound leaving his mouth.

"Can you promise me one thing, Harry, just one thing?"

Harry nods because of course he would. He'd do just about anything for Niall, he'd run to the other side of the world and back if he had to.

"Don't pay attention to anything Louis says, alright? He's a fucking tool and he doesn't deserve anything from you okay? You promise me that, Harry, promise me."

Harry nods, unable to make eye contact. But nothing gets passed Niall because there he is, all bits of perfection and everything that comes with it, placing a finger under Harry's chin a tilting it up until their eyes meet. "Promise me," he says again and if Harry's not hearing it wrong, his voice sounds a bit shaky like he might cry or something. And if that doesn't make Harry do something, he's not sure what will.

"Okay, I promise," Harry barley speaks but it's enough for Niall and it gets him smiling again and that's really all Harry could ask for.

"Meet me at the front of the school after classes, okay?"

And Harry doesn't even question Niall, doesn't even ask why, only nods and goes with the flow because it's Niall and he'd do anything for him.

He thinks he's quite possibly falling in love.

***

Niall takes Harry to an old, abandoned park. It's kind of odd, Harry thinks, but it doesn't matter because he doesn't mind being by Niall's side wherever that may be.

It's not too far from where they live so Harry guesses that it's an alright place. There's a swing set and a rusty, old slide and it looks as if no one's been here in about twenty years but, "that's what makes it cool, huh?" Niall insists and Harry finds himself quickly agreeing.

"I like to come here to get my thoughts together and what not whenever I need to," he continues. "Used to come here when I was a kid, which sometimes I still feel like I am, you know? Still feel like I'm that same thirteen year old boy with braces and chubby cheeks, ha."

"You had braces?" Harry quirks an eyebrow and it really makes Niall want to kiss him numb because Harry's just so gosh darn cute, it hurts. He kind of has to fight the urge to do so, and honestly, it's proving to be a tad difficult.

"Yeah," Niall laughs and has to turn away or else he'll end up attacking Harry's mouth with his or something. Wouldn't mind doing just that, in fact. "What, did you not have to strive for straight teeth when you were younger?" Niall jokes and Harry's quiet laughter makes him want to kiss Harry even more.

"Nope," Harry giggles, falling over onto Niall until his cheek is resting on his shoulder.

It's so easy for Harry when he's around Niall. Doesn't have to think when he's with him, he just  _does_ , and that makes him feel like he can rule the world. He's taking everything one step at a time, but he's got to start somewhere right?

"You make me so happy," Niall mumbles lowly and that gets Harry's heart thumping so loud he's surprised the whole town can't hear it.

Harry pulls away to let their eyes meet and when they do Harry just knows, doesn't need a confirmation or anything, that he's head over heels in love with Niall. He couldn't even try to deny it if he tried.

It's that deep.

"You make me happy, too." Harry says and that's all Niall will ever need.

***

If Harry catches Louis in the hallway with a black eye the next day, he chooses to ignore it. Only moves himself closer to Niall's side and focuses on the way their arms keep brushing against each other's when they walk down the hall.

And if all eyes are on the two of them when Niall snakes an arm around Harry's shoulders, then so be it, because when he's with Niall it's just them two in the world and nobody else.

The world is theirs to conquer.

***

 _Is it the same for you?_ Harry finds himself thinking this a lot. Whether he's in bed like his now or whether he's eating breakfast with his mum like he does now, or whether it's when he's walking to school in the morning, he's thinking about it.

Is it the same for him? Does he feel it too? Does he feel the rush of blood that flows hot through his veins, the shortness of breath, the adrenaline that runs through his body, that controls his soul? Does he feel like he's walking on the clouds above or get that tinge of nerves in the pit of his stomach whenever he looks into Harry's emerald eyes?

Do his palms sweat, do his knees shake, does his breath tremble at the thought of him? Does he feel like he can melt into a puddle on the sidewalk whenever Harry's voice fills his ears?

Is it the the same for him? Is it the same for you, Niall?

***

Harry's never been so scared in his entire life. His teacher knows he doesn't do crowds, has never made him stand in front of a whole classroom this whole year until now. And it's overwhelming to Harry, makes his palms sweat with unnerving feelings; feelings that he can't shake.

He feels his chest tightening and he can't seem to stand straight on the balls of his feet and it feels like he's going to pass out any moment.

And all he can think about is wanting Niall and wishing he were here to calm him down, to soothe him, to rub circles into his back and whisper into his ear that it's going to be okay. Except it's not going to be okay because Niall isn't here and Harry doesn't do people and he doesn't speak and this is  _not_  him. It's not.

And it makes it worse because he can literally feel all his classmate's eyes on him, like they're judging him and it's seeping into his skin like sweat on a hot day.

He can't stop his hands from shaking and he feels like he's going to to be sick and he can't do that because, no, that would only make it worse and  _damn_  his fucking English teacher for making him do this. Damn her.

And he's just standing there and he sort of feels is like a deer caught in headlights and it sucks and this is exactly why he doesn't speak in the first place. He can't do things like this. He's just a big ball of nerves and that's it. Why can't people see that?

"Okay Harry, you can start whenever you'd like." His teacher tells him, but no he can't. He won't.

It feels like everyone's waiting on him for years, feels like he's been standing up here for longer and it's really taking a toll on him.

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. His throat feels impossibly dry and his teeth clatter to top it all off. He can't do this, he can't so he doesn't. He runs.

He doesn't care, he aims straight for the door and before he knows it, he's bolting out of the classroom, ignoring the gasps and giggles from the rest of the students, ignores the calls his teacher is making after him, ignores everything around him and just runs.

He runs until he's out of the building and outside and the cool breeze makes its way through his hair and he feels like he can somewhat breathe again. But then he starts to worry about what's happening in the classroom now—what everyone is saying about him and if his teacher has contacted the principals or his mother yet and the fact that he left his bag underneath his desk, and honestly it hurts to think about.

So he thinks about Niall instead and he thinks about his blond hair and his pretty blue eyes and his Irish accent and  _him_  and that's all Harry needs before his breathing is back to normal and he feels okay again.

He'll be okay.

***

Turns out Harry never went back to school after what happened yesterday and his teacher had called his mother and she had a little chat with him about it, but he didn't get into much trouble because his mum knows what he has to go through everyday. She knows how Harry is and she didn't find it necessary to chastise him over something he couldn't exactly help.

He's still learning and his mother is okay with that, she is.

It's Niall who gives him back his backpack the next day after he'd been worrying about what happened to it all night, so much that he couldn't even fall asleep.

"I have the same teacher two periods after you," Niall says after Harry gives him a look as if he were asking how'd he even got his bag in the first place. "My mate Zayn noticed it—he sits in your seat—and told me about it."

"Thanks," Harry mumbles, placing the straps across his shoulders.

"Mhm," Niall hums. "D'ya wanna tell me what happened?"

 _Not really_ , Harry thinks so he just shrugs.

"That's fine." Niall insists. Harry is so grateful for him, he really is. "I'll just ask Mrs. Stevens instead," Niall winks and Harry lets out a squeak, pulling on Niall's arm when he pretends to walk away.

"'M just kiddin', bud." Niall laughs and Harry frowns because it's not funny, but soon finds it hard to hide his smile once be notices that Niall's grows wider. It was bound to happen, really. "C'mon, let's go to the library."

Harry follows in step behind Niall as they make their way to their well acclaimed spot in the library. Harry wants to grab Niall's hand and wants to tug him closer to his side but he refrains from doing so because it's not his place to and, besides, he's not even sure if Niall even wants that anyway.

He wants it, though. He wants it so bad.

They're almost to the library when a voice has Harry stopping in his tracks. It's Louis and Harry finds him absolutely disgusting and all he can do is remember what Niall told him, remember what he promised him, and that's enough to get him walking again and trying his best to forget all about it.

But it's quite hard to do when Niall won't even take his own advice and is trying to make his way toward Louis despite what he'd just told Niall all but two weeks ago.

"Queers," Louis had said, trying to disguise it as a cough but Harry wasn't dumb and neither was Niall. They knew what he'd said. But the difference between the two of them was that one of them tried not to make a big deal about it while the other couldn't stop himself from trying to take action.

Which, Harry wasn't exactly sure would be, but he knew it wouldn't be anything good seeing as Louis was already sporting a black eye (which he's sure he got from Niall) and Harry doesn't fancy seeing a fight break out and the man of his dreams getting suspended for doing just that.

"You know what, fuck you, Louis!" Niall shouts and it makes Harry flinch at his chosen words. "You just don't know when to fucking keep your mouth shut, do you?"

"Niall, please," Harry whimpers from behind, trying to reach out for him.

"Go on, defend your little boyfriend all you want, Niall. It makes me laugh, he's nothing but a  _mute_."

And, okay, ouch, Harry thought because he was sure there was more to him than that. He wasn't even fucking mute, he knew how to speak, he just chose not to and he has reasons behind his actions. It's not like he actually likes being this way, he just can't help it anymore.

"Go to hell, Louis. You're such a fucking dick." Niall spits back and Harry can feel the poison in his voice, can taste the venom and he doesn't like it at all.

"Niall, please, come on, please," Harry begs but his voice is so small and he's just useless, there's no point.

"And what are you gonna do about it, huh, Ni?" Louis challenges and Harry finds that a bit strange seeing as Niall had already done something about it before, seeing as his eyes was a whole other color.

And now that Harry thought about it, purple wasn't exactly his color at all.

But then Harry is brought out of his thoughts when Niall takes a few steps forward until he's damn near chest to chest with Louis and his heart starts to beat a little faster at that.

He can't take this anymore, can't stand seeing Niall like this, and as much as he dislikes Louis, he doesn't want to see him get hurt. Doesn't want to see anyone get hurt, as a matter of fact.

"Niall, come on let's go. Please, Niall." Harry wraps both of his hands around Niall's arm and starts to pull him back and towards the entrance of the library. He can see teachers starting to find interest in his and Louis' mishap and he'd rather not see Niall getting in trouble right now. Not now, not ever.

Niall turns around just as Harry starts tugging on his arm again like a child would do to their mother whenever they wanted her attention. Niall's face softens when he sees the worried look on Harry's face. Honestly, he should've known better. He knows he has no business doing this and he knows Louis isn't worth his time, so what the hell is he still doing here?

Niall turns to face Louis once more before telling him to "Watch your fucking mouth next time," and "don't come near him again."

And even though the situation isn't one of the best to be feeling like this, Harry can't help it. He can't help that his head basically screams  _NiallNiallNiall_  24/7 and he can't help that he feels whole whenever Niall says something about him. Can't help that he's in love.

And that's all he can think about when Niall tugs on Harry's hand and pulls them to  _their_  table and they're sitting down and he's taking  _his_  seat next to Harry's—not across—and that's it.

It's nothing but love.

***

"You're so beautiful, Harry, and I mean that." Niall tells him one day.

They're sitting in the back seat of his car and they're at their spot waiting for the sun to set and Harry feels nothing but love and sees nothing but love and hears nothing but "I'm in love" whenever Niall speaks and fuck, he's so fucking in love it's not even funny. In fact, it hurts. It hurts so much, and not because Harry is afraid that Niall doesn't feel the same, but because Harry's love for Niall is so huge that it's overwhelming and his heart is growing so large for him that it fucking hurts.

But it's the good kind of hurt, the kind of hurt that Harry hadn't even known existed until now, and now that he knows the feeling, he'll never feel anything other than this.

"And I'm not saying that because of your features, well that's a part of it," Niall chuckles and Harry blushes like a hot stove. "But you're so beautiful, Harry. Inside and out. And you're quiet and you don't like to speak and that's okay, it's okay, don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise, okay? You're so fucking beautiful -- everything about you is beauty and I'm so sorry that you have to deal with some of the things you do. I wish I could protect you from everything, sadly, I can't. But I can try, I can."

"You don't have to protect me, Niall," Harry corrects him softly.

"I know," he nods. "I know. I just—I want you to be happy."

"I am happy," Harry mutters.

"Yeah?" Niall smiles widely and Harry nods because he is. He's happy because Niall is happy and mum's happy because Harry is happy and, really, it's all thanks to Niall. He can't thank him enough.

"You—you made me so happy."

And Niall's smile is so much bigger and it's like Harry is looking into his own personal sun because that's what Niall is to him. Niall's like this big, gigantic, human sun and he makes Harry happy. Makes him so happy that he feels mad. And yeah, maybe he kind of is.

Niall doesn't say anything else after that. He can't say anything else because Harry's said it all and all he wants to do now is kiss Harry. Wants to hiss him until he's senseless, until he's panting for air, until they can no longer feel their own lips and so that's exactly what he does. Niall kisses Harry.

He leans in and it's like Harry's knows what's next because his eyes get all wide and doe-like and when Niall leans in and presses his forehead against Harry's, he knows it and and Harry knows that he knows it too.

And that's it, really. That's all there is to it before Niall pushes in and their lips are touching and Niall thought everything was perfect before, which it was, but now it's like next level perfection and Niall's veins run with excitement.

It's like he's high but without the drugs. He's high off of Harry and Harry is his drug and god, he loves him so fucking much. Loves him so much that he can literally feel it on his skin.

The kiss is slow and as passionate as two boys kissing in a car can get. And Niall cradles Harry's face in his hands like he's his whole world, like he's the sun and the moon and the stars combined and it's all in Niall's hands.

And to Niall, Harry is the moon and the stars and the sun—he's life itself. He can't imagine him any other way.

Neither Harry nor Niall know how long the two of them spend kissing in Niall's back seat. They do know that the sunset has long gone and now it's just them and the darkness and Niall is okay with that. That is until his phone his vibrating in his pocket and Harry jumps a little in his seat, but that only makes Niall laugh against his mouth and everything is just perfect.

Niall removes his lips from Harry's, now swollen from kissing so long. He rolls his forehead against his curly headed lover's and he digs his phone from his pocket and opens the text from his mum telling him that, once again, his dinner is cold and that he should get home before she feeds it to the stray dogs outside. Niall chuckles as he replies with an _'okay'_ and gives Harry a peck or two, or three, before regretfully telling him that he has to go now and Harry agrees as they climb into the front seat and begin their journey home.

***

Niall holds both of Harry's hands in between his, placing one of Harry's palms flat against his chest. Harry can feel Niall's heart beat pulsing through his skin, sending waves through his body.

Harry follows the beat, the rhythm of Niall's heart, with his touch and honestly nothing feels more right to him than this. Nothing feels better than knowing that this is what Niall goes though whenever he's around him, that "this is for you," Niall speaks slowly, voice low and steady. "My heart beats for _you_."

***

Niall just sort of said it one day. It was a Saturday, to be exact, and they were at that abandoned park, sitting on the sparse grass with Niall playing with the tips of Harry's fingertips as they did.

It's not that Harry hadn't been thinking about it, because quite frankly he had. Just didn't know what to do about it, didn't know what to say. And it's not like Niall actually had to ask about it at all, it was sort of like a confirmation in question form, Harry guesses. And, to be honest, Harry thought of Niall this way ever since their first kiss, just didn't want things to seem like something it wasn't. And it wasn't because apparently Niall was on the same page.

"So..." Niall uttered, voice filling the empty air outside. He was tangling and untangling his and Harry's fingers together and rubbing circles into the back of Harry's hands and tapping random sequences into Harry's jean covered legs. Either he was bored or it was a distraction, which Harry guessed it was seeing as what was to come out of his mouth next. "Are you my boyfriend?"

Niall couldn't look Harry in the eye because he was pretty nervous and that was rare for Niall because he was like the biggest social butterfly he knew. Then again, everyone was a social butterfly next to Harry so he really couldn't use that, he didn't think.

But right now, Niall  _was_  nervous and his cheeks were tinted pink, so pink that Harry just had to kiss his cheek. He couldn't resist.

"Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?" Harry played, and that had Niall rolling his eyes but there was a smirk on his face anyway.

"I'm asking you if you  _are_  my boyfriend."

"So, you want me to make the decision?"

"No—I—yes? Wait, no, I'm just—"

But Niall was interrupted when Harry placed his lips against the blond's and Niall lost all train of thought after that because he couldn't focus around Harry and Harry made him insane. But in a good way—a good insane.

"Yes," Harry mumbled. And yeah, Niall grinned, yes he was.

***

They had been doing so great, so great. Niall somehow even found himself meeting Harry's mum, Anne, and later on Harry was meeting Niall's folks and everything was perfect.

Until it wasn't.

"Harry, not now please," Niall groaned, a frown etched into his features as he tried to concentrate on his notes in front of him. They were in Niall's bedroom, Harry sitting criss cross on the floor while Niall was slumped on top of his bed. Niall had been studying for an exam he was sure he was going to flunk and he wanted Harry to be there while he did because apparently Harry helped him focus, or so he claimed.

But it didn't feel like that to Harry right now because Niall wasn't focusing at all, seemed to be whining and complaining instead. It made Harry's head hurt.

And not because it was annoying or anything, but because it worried him to see Niall like this. It worried him that Niall was stressing out and it made him feel uneasy.

"Harry, please, stop looking at me like that. I can't focus."

And Harry frowned because he thought that he helped Niall focus. What?

Harry pouted, "I haven't done anything," he spoke under his breath and somehow Niall was huffing so loud that it made Harry flinch and he was pushing his books away from him, rubbing his hands across his face tiredly. It made Harry feel small.

"I'm going to fucking fail," Niall whispered to himself, pulling at his brown roots so hard that Harry actually believed he'd rip his hair out.

Harry shook his head and lowly said, "no you're not."

"God, I'm going to fucking fail. I'm going to fail and have to repeat the class then I won't graduate and I'll have to repeat my last year and I can't fucking do that, I can't."

"Niall—"

"No Harry, I'm so fucking tired, I can't do this."

"Stop saying that," Harry pleaded. It made him sad how Niall talked so low about himself and he liked smiley, happy Niall better, not this moping, pouty Niall.

"I want to but I—I can't fail, Harry, because if I do it'll look bad on my records and I'm getting out of here as fast as I can once I graduate and that will only set me back if I fail and..."

And honestly Harry had stopped listening after that because oh, they hadn't talked about that yet. You know, the whole  _I'm getting out of here as fast as I can_  deal, and yeah. How's Harry supposed to feel?

He's not a dumbass, knows that Niall wasn't going to stay here forever and wait for him to graduate so they could continue their happy, perfect life together, no. But, like, he didn't know  _that_. Didn't know how badly Niall wanted to leave until now and, wow, it kind of hurt.

Was Harry not enough for him? Had he not even thought about him at all during this? Did he—

"Harry," Niall found himself snapping his fingers in front of Harry's face once he noticed he'd drifted off into the distance. "You alright?"

Harry nodded because he really didn't trust his own voice right about now.

And usually Niall notices when Harry's keeping something inside, he always does, but this time he doesn't and it hurts even more. It shouldn't, it's stupid, but it does.

"Okay—wait where are you going?" Niall asks once he sees Harry standing up from his spot on the floor. Harry points and nods towards the bathroom and before Niall can even respond he's inside and locking himself in.

He sits down on top of the toilet seat with his shoulders slumped and his feet crossed one over the other, and he tells himself he's not going to cry, promises himself. At least not until he gets home he's not.

He's not going to cry, he's not, he shouldn't. Has no reason to.

Except, Harry feels like he does, and if a lone tear slides down the side of his face, he wipes it away quickly, forcefully, because no, he made a promise to himself and he's not going to break it.

He's just not, and he's trying hard not to do just that.

***

If Niall notices that Harry is feeling down, he chooses not to dwell on it. He doesn't want to mess things up, especially not when things are going so good between them. So maybe he doesn't say anything, but what he does do is look at Harry a little bit longer than usual, and he smiles a little bit wider when they're together, and he squeezes his hand a little bit tighter, and it's all for Harry.

Because even if Niall doesn't say anything, he knows how to make Harry feel better. He thinks his tactics are starting to work out.

And it's like Harry doesn't look particularly down anymore, like whatever negative energy he had stored inside of him has been erased. It makes Niall feel good, makes him want to love Harry even more.

They're in his room again but this time it's a Friday night and his parents aren't home for the whole weekend and it's him and Harry and whatever they want to do. Whether that be watch movies while they cuddle together on Niall's bed, or eat so many fatty snacks that their stomach hurt, or kiss until their lips feel like they're going to fall off, they've got all the time in the world, it seems. The world lies in their hands.

So that's how Niall finds himself, settling in between Harry's legs and peppering tiny kisses all over his face because he's in love and he loves the sound of Harry's giggles rapidly filling the room and  _he's_   _in love_. And he's not sure how he even got this far, doesn't know how Harry even allowed him to be doing this, whispering naughty things into his ear, caressing his skin like the world depended on it.

Doesn't know how Harry hadn't stopped him before, how he wasn't shaking with nerves, but he'd take this over anything any day, so really he can't complain. Can't even question it.

"I want to make you feel so good, baby," Niall whispers hotly into Harry's ear. And then Harry's body tenses when Niall pulls back to look at him with lustful eyes; he's so hungry for him.

Harry looks so scared, his eyes are wide and he doesn't know what to do because he's never done any of this before. He's never experienced  _anything_  until Niall came along, so what else can you expect from him?

"It's okay, promise." Niall says, and that makes Harry feel a little better. "Won't do anything you do want to, okay?"

But then Harry's thinking, maybe he does want this. It's not like he didn't, he's just so nervous. What if he makes a fool of himself? He can't deny that Niall makes him feel some type of way sometimes. Can't deny, even if his cheeks blaze profusely from admitting it, that he's  _experimented_  with himself with the thought of Niall on his mind while he did. He couldn't lie about that.

So, maybe it won't be all that bad. It's just Niall after all, so there's no reason to be scared at all. He knows he'd keep Harry safe, he always had.

"Okay," Harry speaks, his voice barely audible.

"Alright," Niall pecks his lips before leaning away from Harry and going to lay back down in the spot next to him. But no, that's not what Harry meant, he meant okay, like, okay let's do it. Not okay like it's okay that I don't want this.

"No," Harry pulls Niall back to the space between his legs. "I meant  _okay_ ," he presses and Niall's mouth forms into an O.

"Oh," he chuckles nervously. "Are you sure?"

"Mhm," Harry nods, and he is. He's so sure. He trusts Niall with his entire existence. He knows he'd never let anything happen to him.

"Okay," Niall smiles softly and Harry can't help but think that god, he's so beautiful. "You tell me if you want me to stop, just say when, alright? I won't be mad."

"Alright," Harry whispers, biting his lower lip.

" _Fuck_ ," Niall hisses. "Don't do that."

Harry's eyes grow wide. "What did I do?" His heart is beating fast.

"No," Niall shakes his head as he laughs. "It's just, you can't—don't bite your lip like that, it's turning me on."

And, oh, that's what. Harry doesn't know what to say.

"You're so cute," Niall grins and kisses Harry's lips like he means it. And he does.

Soon enough, he finds himself nibbling at the exposed skin on Harry's neck, and pressing small kisses along Harry's chest, hands roaming across Harry's body. He tilts his chin down, softly biting at Harry's nipple through his shirt and it gets a whine falling straight from Harry's mouth.

His breathing picks up and it feels so good even though nothing's happened yet. And as Niall trails his lips down Harry's torso, taking his preciously sweet time, Harry's breaths get shorter until they're nothing but pants and it gets him wondering why they haven't done something like this sooner. Harry quite likes it.

And as Niall's mouth reaches the top of Harry's jeans and as he slowly starts to unbuckle his belt and pull his zipper down, Harry just knows he's going to lose it. Knows he won't be able to help himself.

Niall raises an eyebrow up at Harry, silently asking him if he's sure he wants this and Harry doesn't seem to think twice before he nodding and grabbing Niall's hand, squeezing it tight.

Of course he wants this, what more could he want?

Niall wastes no time after that, pulling Harry out of his jeans and tugging them down the smooth of his thighs. Harry closes his eyes when Niall's hot breath fans across his member and fuck, he's already lost.

Niall presses a kiss or two against Harry's hard on, and before Harry knows it, Niall's taking him into his mouth and boy, it feels like heaven. Feels like all the fireworks in the world are trapped in his stomach and are being set off all at the same time. Feels like there's a fucking explosion in the pit of his stomach and Harry can feel every bit of emotion running through his veins at the same time.

Niall bobs his head up and down Harry's dick, getting faster and faster as time goes on. He wraps a hand around Harry and squeezes him, pumps him, as Niall works his mouth around him. Harry feels like he's losing it, knows he is, and he can't help but card his fingers through Niall's hair and pull at his roots. Sets him over the edge when Niall moans around him and he can feel it vibrating through his cock.

But before anything can happen, Niall's pulling off and Harry's whining because what the fuck? Niall chuckles, breath hitting Harry once again and he's trembling at that. "Gonna come for me?" Niall asks and Harry frowns because the words sound so dirty coming out of Niall and Harry's not sure if he likes it or not.

"Want you to come for me, Harry, can you do that?" Harry nods as Niall pumps his dick faster with his hand, because of course he can. But then Niall's speaking again and it doesn't feel right to Harry when Niall tells him to "come in my mouth," and yeah, no, he doesn't really like this part at all.

"Niall, stop," Harry pleads.

"What's wrong?" Niall asks, stopping the motion of his hands around Harry. Fuck.

"No, don't—don't stop," Harry bucks himself up into Niall's hand, reaching over to try and get Niall's hand to move again. "Just—don't say that."

"Say what?"

"Don't speak like that," Harry cringes. He can't stop repeating Niall's words in his head and they sound so wrong and weird. It's just awkward for Harry.

"Oh," Niall catches on, slowly starting to pump Harry again. "You don't like it?" _No_ , Harry shakes his head. "Okay, I'll keep quiet now," Niall smirks as he places his mouth over Harry's throbbing cock again.

And it doesn't take much longer after that before Harry is coming and it's all white and hot, jetting down Niall's throat.

Goddammit.

Niall wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, scoots up to where he's at level with Harry again and kisses him harder than he ever has before.

And even if things are not so perfect between them, they still are and Harry can't be happier.

***

As much as Harry tried to get over it, tried not to think about it anymore, he can't and it's eating away at him slowly. And it hits him like a ton of red bricks as he lies awake watching Niall fast asleep beside him, arm lightly draped across his stomach.

Niall's going to leave him, he's knows it. It was bound to happen sooner or later because it always does. Somebody always leaves him, nobody ever stays. And if Niall's going to do that, if he's not going to stay, he at least wants to do something before he goes.

He doesn't know what the fuck he's actually doing but he just wants to do this, he has to. And Harry's breathing trembles and his hands start shaking when he slowly reaches down between the two of them and carefully pulls the covers they're laying under off of Niall and he's fumbling with the belt buckle on Niall's jeans because he fell asleep in them last night, not bothering to take them off.

Niall stirs in his sleep and it feels like there's a mini earthquake in Harry's fingertips. His breath hitches in his throat and god, he can't stop shaking. Niall's eyes flutter open this time and he looks at Harry with furrowed eyebrows and confusion and Harry tries to pay him no mind as he moves himself across Niall and takes a seat above Niall's thighs.

"Woah, wait, what are you doing Harry? What's going on?"

Niall's voice sounds worried but Harry just shakes his head and tells him that, "I want to do something for you," and his voice is all wobbly but Niall mistakes it as nerves and says nothing about it.

"If you wanted to suck me off, all you had to do was ask, Harry." Niall smirks playfully but Harry's not paying him any attention. Only tries to keep his breathing normal, only tries to stop his hands from shaking as he finally pulls open Niall's belt and unzips his pants.

And god, his hands won't stop shaking and his breathing won't slow down, only picks up, and Harry really needs to hurry up and do this before it's too late and Niall's out of the door before he can even get started.

Because he's going to leave, Harry fucking knows it, and it hurts like hell.

Niall's just about to lift his hips up so Harry can take his pants off but then he notices that Harry's sniffing and tears are spilling out of their ducts and Harry's body is quaking so hard that it almost makes Niall's heart leap out of his chest.

"Harry, Harry! What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong." Niall begs, trying to stop Harry's hands from reaching into his boxers and it's like the straw that breaks the camel's back, because now Harry is sobbing, he's fucking balling, and his chest is moving up and down so rapidly that Niall's sure he's going to have a panic attack soon.

Harry collapses against Niall's chest and he holds him so tight to the point where Niall starts to find it hard to breathe. But he doesn't mind, he can't find the will to, because this is Harry and Niall loves him so fucking much that he just can't.

"You're going to leave me," Harry cries, having trouble trying to catch his breath. "You're going to go off to uni and you're gonna leave just like everyone else and it's going to hurt so much and I can't do this anymore, Niall. I can't handle anymore."

"Harry, calm down please. I don't understand." Niall tries to keep his voice low as his arms circle around Harry's back, locking him in to keep him safe like he promised he would.

"You're going to leave just like Gemma and dad and I'm going to be all alone and you'll be next to go and I can't take that."

Niall is so confused, doesn't exactly know what to say, because who's Gemma and what happened to his dad?

"Harry, who is Gemma?" he asks softly, rubbing his hand up and down Harry's back.

"She's m-my sister," Harry stutters. "She's gone with my dad—they're gone."

"I'm sure they'll come back," Niall tries to tell Harry but no, he just doesn't  _get_  it.

"T-they can't come back, Niall, they're—" Harry breaks and so does Niall's heart as well. He already knows what Harry's going to say, and even though he doesn't know Gemma or his dad, it still hurts either way. It hurts Niall to see Harry hurting.

"It's okay," Niall quietly says. "Shh, it's okay. You're okay, Harry, you are."

"Please don't leave me," Harry trembles and it makes Niall want to cry with him.

Harry is so special to him, he means the world, he's everything, and Niall can't imagine, can't even fucking fathom the thought of not being with Harry again. So of course he'd never leave him, not until someone had to physically pry Niall away from him, and even then he still wouldn't.

He loves Harry too much to let go.

"I won't," he whispers and that's all Niall has to say to know that Harry knows he means it. He doesn't need anything more.

***

Harry tells Niall about his family after that. Even though Niall insists that he didn't need to, Harry does anyway and when he does, it's like he can finally breathe again. He's been keeping everything bottled up inside him for so long that he feels like a new person when he lets it all out.

And Niall is so perfect because he listens, he actually listens to what Harry says and that's all he could ever ask for, really. It's all he could ever want.

And he still listens even when Harry's sobbing again and even when his breathing grows erratic and even when Harry feels like he's going to  _break_ , he's still there. And he holds Harry like he never wants to let go and he whispers that everything is going to be okay. Harry believes it, too. In fact, he knows he will be when Niall's right there by his side the whole entire time.

He doesn't leave him, doesn't go anywhere even when Harry tells him about how his older sister, Gemma, and his dad died in a car crash when he was only twelve years old and how he hasn't spoken since then (well, until now) and how much of a toll the accident took on his life and how he didn't feel like he could move on from anything; how he still cries himself to sleep sometimes, how he feels like he's so small in this giant world or how sometimes he can't help but feel worthless, like he's got nothing left.

Niall wouldn't dare leaving him at a time like this, wouldn't dare leave Harry when he knows he needs him the most. So that's what Niall tells him.

"I'm not gonna leave you, Harry, I promise." He tells him. He means every bit of it. "I'm going to stay right here, okay? Remember what I told you, Harry?" Niall takes Harry's hand again like that one time time in the front seat of his car. He takes it and he places it right above his heart. "This is yours," he says, "you have me. 'M not going anywhere."

Harry removes his hand from Niall's chest and places his ear there instead. And he listens to Niall's heart, the one that beats just for him and only him, and it feels like he's home.

Because home is wherever Niall is. He couldn't wish, couldn't dream of having anything better than what he had right now.

His heart beats for Niall too, and if he could, he'd give it to him. He'd pull it right out of his chest and he'd let Niall have it. Because just like Niall, Harry's heart is his and that's the way it's going to be.

***

It feels like they haven't been to school in years when, in actuality, it'd only been a weekend that passed. Niall makes it a habit to pick Harry up from his house and ride to school together nowadays. And any other time Harry would've probably ran away, but this is Niall and he won't do that. Couldn't imagine it.

And Harry tries not to get too overwhelmed when him and Niall walk into school together, tries not to think about all the eyes that are on them, all the eyes that he knows are silently judging him right now. And for all the other kids know, Harry is still "that one mute guy" or "the weird kid" to them. They have no clue how much further he's actually come oppose to what he was like only a couple of months ago. They have no clue what's happened with him, what's happened between Niall and him and he'd like to very much keep it that way.

No one else needs (or better yet  _deserves_ ) to know what they do, what they've been through, what they'll go through. And honestly, he doesn't think anyone would understand anyway. No one wants to understand what the little mute kid goes through. He's kind of okay with that too.

All eyes are still on them when Niall walks Harry to his locker and when Niall leans against them as he waits for Harry to get whatever he needs out of it. All eyes are still on them when Niall looks at Harry like he's been shot directly in the ass by Cupid's arrow.

Harry can't help but feel paranoid when he closes his locker and Niall leans over to leave a quick peck on his cheek before they have to go their separate ways in order to make it to their first classes. But Harry pulls back before Niall's pink lips can come in contact with Harry's skin.

"What's wrong?" Niall frowns. Honestly, it's nothing, it's just that Harry doesn't want people to say anything bad about them. He gets enough of that as it is. And it's not that Harry is ashamed or embarrassed to be with Niall, because he isn't at all. In fact, he'd actually like them to be able to do whatever they want in public, but people are mean and someone's always going to have something to say and Harry isn't sure if he's ready for that yet.

"Nothing," Harry shakes his head, keeping it lower than usual. And his voice is normally quiet to begin with. He'd rather no one be able to hear him. Likes to think that his voice is only for Niall and no one else.

"Harry, you can talk to me, you know that. Talk to me." Niall pleads. He hates the silence that surrounds the two of them. "Do you not want to do this in front of everyone?" He asks a bit quieter, making the conversation feel more intimate.

It's just them two, just like always.

"I—" Harry starts but doesn't get to finish because the bell is ringing and now they've both got to get to class.

Niall sighs, reaches a hand forward to tuck a piece of Harry's hair behind his hair. It's getting quite long, and usually Niall wouldn't like this kind of thing, but with Harry it's perfect. He doesn't mind at all.

"Okay, well, we can talk at lunch or later, if you'd like." Niall suggests and Harry nods because at least he'll get a bit of time to think this through before they talk again. "See you later, okay?"

"Okay." Harry nods, pulling the straps of his bag further up his shoulders. Niall leaves him with a small, yet sad smile. And that's the last thing Harry sees before the words "I love you all too much," leave Harry's lips as he whispers lowly to himself, ducking his head as he watches Niall walk away, turning the corner and then he's gone.

***

Niall is pretty quiet as he sits next to Harry during lunch. It's unusual because even though you aren't supposed to be loud while in a library, Niall usually has something to say, it's Harry's job to be the quiet one, and that makes him nervous.

Makes him feel like he did something wrong, gets him thinking about this morning when he pulled away from Niall's kiss. He didn't mean offend Niall or anything, he was just thinking mainly about himself in that moment and now he kind of feels bad about it.

And he wants to say something, tell Niall his thoughts, tell him that he's sorry,  _something_ , but he can't find his voice. Every time he thinks about opening his mouth, he doesn't, he just keeps it shut.

The silence is killing him though and him thinking that is pretty funny because silence is basically, might as well be, his middle name. He's always quiet so he's not exactly sure why it bothers him so much now. Maybe it's because Niall's not quiet and he's a big talker, but now he's not and it makes Harry feel funny. He can't name that feeling at the moment, just knows it's not a great one.

So Harry sits there. He sits there and he eats his crisps and he keeps his eyes on Niall and lets the silence seep into his pores. He hopes that either one of them will soon break that silence, hopes that he can gather up the courage somehow to say something. He knows he probably won't though so he'll just wait for Niall to do so. Which sounds kind of horrible, but then again Niall was the one who said that they needed to talk, so therefore shouldn't he be the one talking now? Isn't that how it's supposed to work?

Harry is still contemplating his mental questions to himself when Niall clears his throat and sets his hands against the wooden table they're sat at. Harry quickly looks up to see Niall's crystal eyes on him and it's kind of, sort of intimidating. He feels like he should do something, just doesn't know what that's supposed to be.

"I've been thinking," Niall speaks up. Harry holds his breath as he waits for what Niall is going to say next. He raises his eyebrows letting Niall know that he's listening (of course he is, when is he not?) and that he can continue on with whatever he's about to say. "About this morning—"

"I'm sorry," Harry blurts out, shocking not only Niall but himself as he does. He's sorry, and he means it, for whatever he'd said (not that he'd said much) or did this morning and it'd been eating him alive all day. So whatever he did, whatever made Niall quiet like he was today, Harry's sorry for it, and that's coming from the bottom of his heart.

"For what?" Niall says. He's kind of confused.

"Because," Harry huffs, sinking into his chair. "I pushed you away this morning and I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

Harry thought that Niall would be annoyed of him somehow, but instead he just smiled. And with that, it made Harry feel a little better. That's all it really took.

"I don't mind," Niall shrugs. "I get it and I'm sorry as well. I should've talked to you about this before."

"I don't care," Harry let's Niall know. He doesn't even think about it because that's all he'd been doing all day up until now and he doesn't care. He wouldn't mind holding Niall's hand through the hallways and he wouldn't mind giving him kisses on the cheek goodbye as the went on to their own classes. He doesn't care anymore. He was just paranoid about everything and now he realizes that maybe it's not such a big deal after all.

"You don't care?" Niall repeats, letting it all sink on.

"Yeah," Harry nods. "I don't care. And I know you don't either, obviously, so it shouldn't matter right?"

"God, you're the best," Niall grins so widely. It's true. He's glad he pushed himself to get to know Harry because if he hadn't, they wouldn't be where they were in the first place. Niall doesn't even want to think about how his life would be without Niall and maybe he doesn't have to, because when Harry slips his fingers in between Niall's and squeezes his hand, that's all he can think about and nothing else.

***

It was a question that had been on Niall's mind ever since. One of his closest friends, Liam, had ran into him after school and asked him if he wanted to hang out or something. When Niall used to eat in the cafeteria with his other friends, Liam was one of them that he shared a table with. Niall felt a tad bit guilty seeing as he practically ditched his friends for Harry, but then again he didn't because Harry was Harry and he was the love of his life. Of course he'd spend time with him no matter how selfish that did sound to think.

It was when Liam got to asking Niall why he didn't sit with them at lunch anymore and then he was asking if he was spending it with "that one mute guy" which had Niall replying that "he's not fucking mute, Liam." Which he wasn't. He spoke, just not to others. Niall sometimes forget that sense of accomplishment that he felt now that he broke Harry's shell and that he was the one to get Harry to open up to him.

Even if Harry still had a long ways to go, Niall was still the proudest he could ever be. For himself and especially for Harry.

So of course when someone bad mouthed his boyfriend he'd get angry and of course he'd fucking defend him. It didn't matter what for, he always would. Well, unless he happened to murder someone one day, then that would be a completely different story. Harry would never do that, though, so Niall doesn't have to worry about that.

"Are you two, like, dating or something then?" Liam had asked him. "I mean, I don't mind, don't necessarily care, I just want to know. You're my best mate, Niall. I think I deserve that much, don't you?"

And yeah, he did actually. It's just, why did it matter so much? Why was everyone concerned about what Niall did with Harry? Because, honestly, it was none of their business and everyone could fuck off for all he cared.

"Listen," Liam speaks up. "It's cool whatever you're doing, but answer me this: how can you relate to somebody who doesn't speak?" Liam questioned and it got Niall's head hurting as he processed the question. What was this, a college essay question? "How can you ditch your friends for someone you barely know a thing about?"

And that's how he found himself here today. Fuck everything that Liam told him because Liam didn't know a goddamn thing. He knew Harry, he knew Harry like the back of his hand. He knew Harry's story, knew his birthday was February first, knew he grew up in Holmes Chapel, knew he once had a sister named Gemma, he knew that his favorite color was green.

Niall knew that Harry liked the sunset and that he liked to watch the stars. He knew that Harry had a troubled mind, but once you got through to him everything was okay. Niall knew that Harry was bright and Harry was funny and he was the sweetest, most beautiful fucking person he's ever known. So fuck Liam and fuck all of his friends. Because how had he not noticed how closed minded they were? And how did he not know how they were basically like robots who followed everyone else's lead? Niall would rather be alone with Harry and have no friends at all than go back to a table full of people he once called his friends.

He'd choose Harry over them any day and Niall couldn't care one single bit. Because he was content with his own decisions, and he was happy with Harry and that's all he would ever need.

So he leaves Liam there without saying a word and he goes off to find Harry because that who he really needs.

Niall finds Harry standing near his car, eyes glued to the ground with his hands behind his back. He's so cute, Niall thinks as he's walking up to him. He can't stop the large smile he's wearing on his face and he can't wait to kiss every inch of Harry's face when he gets near him.

He feels so much better now after his little chat with Liam. He's actually pretty glad that Liam decided to stop him too because if he hadn't he wouldn't have realized how much of a box of tools his friends were and, wow, he really needed that. He feels fantastic now, and it feels a little bad to be putting his friends down like this, but whatever. Niall can't help that he's happy.

Niall wraps his arms around Harry from behind when he's finally close to him. Harry almost jumps out of his skin, but once he realizes that oh, it's just Niall, he starts to relax in his arms. Niall won't stop smiling and it's like his happiness is contagious because now Harry can't stop himself from grinning too and they probably look like the two most happy people in the world. They could probably win a world record for this if they tried.

"Niall," Harry giggles as Niall presses kiss after kiss across every aspect of Harry's face just like he promised himself he would.

Harry's laughter is like music to Niall's ears. He feels like it should be at the top of the Billboard charts by now. And fuck, Niall is so happy with everything in his life right now, he truly is. And he wants Harry to know that when he presses his mouth against Harry's and kisses him slowly.

They're still stood in the school's parking lot next to Niall's car and Harry doesn't pull away from Niall not once. He was right, he really didn't care about anything anymore. He found it much easier to let go than be tense all the time and he can thank Niall for teaching him that. He's forever thankful for his blond headed boyfriend, words cannot describe how much he is.

When Niall pulls away, his smile is much brighter than before and so is Harry's. And both of them are pretty sure that people are staring now but none of them seem to care. Because like always, it's just Niall and Harry and Harry and Niall and no one else but them.

And it's just Harry and Niall when they walk hand in hand to Niall's car, and it's just Harry and Niall when they hold hands the whole way as Niall drives them to their secret place to get ready to watch the sunset together just like they've been doing since that very first time.

And it's just Niall and Harry when Niall finally tells Harry that he loves him, he loves him so fucking much, when they're sprawled across the hood of his car. It's just Niall and Harry when Harry tells him how much he loves him too, and it's Niall and Harry and Harry and Niall when they kiss each other until the colorful skies turn into night and they listen to each other's heartbeats until their eyes start to drift and their parents are telling them that it's time to go home.

And the whole world is all  _NiallandHarry_  and  _HarryandNiall_  and it's like this is how it was supposed to be all along.

***

It almost feels like the world around them is a much brighter place. It's like the sun is somehow sunnier and air is somehow fresher and sky is somehow bluer and it's all because of Harry and Niall. It's all because of what they do to each other.

Even when people give them weird stares in the hallways when they hold hands so tight like they never want to let go. Even when people question what the hell Niall's doing with the mute kid, it still feels like he's in heaven. Because, like Harry thinks, it's a lot easier to let go and not give a single care than to be self conscious and too aware of their surroundings.

Harry gives Niall kisses on the cheek whenever they part ways in the mornings and he swears it's like the whole school gasps when his lips come in contact with Niall's skin because how the hell did a boy who doesn't even speak get all this? That's what Harry imagines everyone's thinking right now, but whatever.

He doesn't even notice any of them anymore. All he thinks about it Niall, all he dreams about is Niall, all he feels is Niall and how happy he is with him, how he makes him feel like the only boy in the world. All Harry ever thinks about is how in love he is with the boy he'd once ran away from because he was  _that_  scared of the world, of life.

And, yeah, maybe Harry is still afraid of life, but with Niall, he's learning. He's learned so much with him and that's all that really matters to Harry. Nothing else matters. Not even the looks they receive, not even the harsh whispers that are thrown around about him—nothing matters but him and Niall and Niall and Harry, and Harry couldn't be happier.

He feels like his heart is going to explode, confetti and streamers and fireworks flying out instead.

And if his heart were to explode, Harry thinks that he wouldn't exactly mind that part. As long as Niall's holding his hand along the way.

***

 _Is it the same for you?_  Harry once used to ask himself that question a lot. There's no need for that anymore because now he knows. He knows that it is the same for him. It always has been.

It is the same for Niall; it always will be.

***

"I'd run away with you, if I could," Harry tells Niall as they're sitting on top of his car's roof like always. It's six o'clock in the evening, the sky is ranging from blue to pink to a soft orange. It's beautiful, but it can't compare to Harry and all that comes with him, Niall thinks.

Niall squeezes Harry's hand, the one that's tangled with his. He brings their joined hands up to his mouth and kisses Harry's knuckles softly, kisses them with the burning passion he feels for his lover.

"And I'd run away with you," Niall whispers. And suddenly the sunset abound their heads no longer matters. Because all Niall can see are Harry's green eyes and the sparkles that shine with them.

It's amazing how far they've come. From Harry running away from him, never uttering a single word from the start, to Niall hearing about all of Harry's life stories and his dreams, his passions. Never would Niall have thought they'd be together like they are now, never thought he'd grow to love the boy who didn't believe in anything besides silence. But now he's glad him and Harry have come so far, he wouldn't trade it in for the world. You couldn't pay him enough to do so.

"Thank you," Harry whispers as he rests his head across Niall's chest. He loves to listen to Niall's heartbeat. It's become like a routine. "Thank you for teaching me so much, thank you for letting me love you."

Niall doesn't know what to say exactly. So he doesn't say anything at all. He just tilts Harry's head up until they're face to face. He looks at him like he's the most beautiful thing to ever exist in the whole universe. (Which, to Niall, he is.) He squeezes his hand once again, gives Harry a small smile and kisses him until their breaths become one, until their tongues are sore.

"I love you all too much," Niall whispers against Harry's soft lips. The ones that not too long ago never uttered a single word. Niall leans his forehead against Harry's as he soaks it all in.

And Harry laughs because it's true. He laughs because now, thanks to Niall, he's truly happy. He thinks he will be for a long time now, too. They're in it for the long run.

"And I can't love you enough," Harry mumbles softly, pressing his lips to Niall's once again.

And this is them. It's sunsets and stars and heartbeats and smiles. It's warm kisses and squeezing of hands and endless conversations until the vibrations of their phones interrupt them. It's the moon, the universe, the world in the palm of their hands. It's growing and it's learning and It's Niall and Harry and it's well spoken, endless _love_.

_Just love._

**_End._ **

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: pizziallhut.tumblr.com  
> wattpad: yrraniaz
> 
> follow me if you'd like :) thanks for reading!


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